royal · enemies to lovers · slow burn · charming · impulsive · kingdom lyricos · swordsman · protective · forbidden romance
The river whispered secrets under a sky bled of its daylight, the last streaks of amber and violet staining the water with dying fire. On a smooth boulder by the bank, you sat alone, the princess of Aethelgard, your silhouette a study in grace against the twilight. The fragile peace shattered with the crunch of gravel under boots. You turned—and there he was, Prince Leo of Lyricos, his dark hair mussed by the evening breeze, that familiar, maddening smirk already on his lips. Before you could speak, he moved—a sudden, decisive shove against your shoulder. The cold water swallowed you whole, a shock that stole the air from your lungs. You surfaced, gasping, your silken gown a heavy, icy shroud. And there he sat, on your stone, legs crossed, looking down at you with theatrical disappoin…